Homecoming, A Gift for Elrond
by Ithilin Palandiriel
Summary: Will a lost one be able to come home? COMPLETE
1. The wish

Homecoming, A Gift for Elrond  
  
by Ithilin Palandiriel  
  
ithilinpalantir@netscape.net  
  
Rating: R  
  
(Some violence, torture, strong language)  
  
Nothing graphic but if you are one of those squeamish sorts, please don't bother reading this.   
  
Summary:   
  
Legolas, on his way to Rivendell, finds himself waylaid by a battered she-elf. But things are not what they seem. Will a lost one find home or will her worst nightmares come true.  
  
Disclaimer:   
  
Mine! Mine! Mine! (Sighs resignedly) OK, not mine! : ( Just playing in Tolkien's sandbox for a while. : )   
  
Author's Note: Please Read and Review. Updates depend on your critiques  
  
Homecoming, A Gift for Elrond  
  
  
  
The day dawned cold, gray and misty. Legolas hated traveling in this kind of weather, but then who didn't. Even though elves didn't feel the cold as humans did, the damp and chill still crept into one's very soul, not to mention it made any kind of travel very uncomfortable.   
  
The scent of snow was on the air. He had been very lucky to get through the High Pass this late in the year. He flexed his long slender hands trying to keep them warm but was unsuccessful. Fortunately he was only a days journey from Rivendell and Lord Elrond's delicious hot cocoa. The very thought of wrapping his hands around a large steaming mug of the confection warmed the elven prince.  
  
A soft moan to his right caught his attention. Turning toward it he found himself horrified by the sight that met his eyes. A young raven-haired woman was bound tightly to a tree, her small uncovered feet dangling just shy of the ground.. Her scant dirty clothing was bloody and torn from a recent beating.  
  
"Please, no more." She moaned painfully as he approached, "Please, Ada. Please stop."  
  
"Hush, tithen pen," Legolas slipped one of his daggers from its sheath on his back and cut her down from the limb. "I will not hurt you."  
  
She did not brush the matted dark hair from her face and made no effort to look at the elf prince. "You should not have done that, my lord." She said softly, "He will be back soon. I will be beaten worse for your efforts."  
  
"Who will be back?" Legolas brushed the hair away from her face. Frightened silver-blue eyes stared back at him from a very elven face. Anger rose in his throat.  
  
The girl looked away from his steady gaze as if ashamed. "Ada." She whispered, "If he finds that I have disobeyed again . . ."   
  
"Come young one, I will take you to Rivendell. You will be . . ."  
  
"No! They will hurt me!"  
  
"Who?" He asked, not understanding her fear.  
  
"Ada says I am not like them. Ada says they do not like my kind." Sheer terror swirled in her blue eyes. "Ada said I belong to no one but the masters of his house."   
  
Legolas shook his head, "But you are hurt. If you stay out here much longer you will die of exposure. I will not have that on my conscience."  
  
"Elves do not accept my kind." She sobbed.  
  
"I am an elf. As are you." Legolas was totally confused now.   
  
"I am not like them or you. I have no race." She said sadly.  
  
"Lord Elrond will not refuse to give you aid. I promise."  
  
The faint flicker of recognition passed across her face at Lord Elrond's name surprised him. Who was she? She was Elf, of that much he was certain.   
  
He felt his anger rise again as the girl turned from him revealing the angry bloody welts on her back. Legolas winced, recalling his own experiences with sadistic family members in the past; knowing that it wasn't completely impossible for these things to happen. He understood the pain this one was going through very well. Yet over all, Elves rarely treated their children this way.   
  
"Ho! Legolas!"  
  
Three riders halted their horses a short distance away and dismounted. Even beneath their fur lined cloaks, Legolas could tell who they were. Aragorn and Lord Elrond's twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, covered the distance between and clasped the Mirkwood prince in a fond embrace. Their joyful crush warmed him and made him wish he had thought to bring his own fur cloak.  
  
"Ada said you would be here for the Yule Festival. We've been looking for you for weeks now. Why so late?" The happy light in the older elf's eyes shone brightly until he caught sight of the she-elf, "What is this?"   
  
"She's hurt, Elladan. We must get her back to your father's house quickly."  
  
The young woman tried to flee but in her weakened state she stumbled and fell. Legolas was at her side instantly.  
  
"No! No! Please no!" She whimpered, trying to fight the elf prince off. "I have no right to ask aid."  
  
"Hush, little one," Elladan said soothingly, kneeling next to the girl. "We only seek to help. What is your name?"  
  
"El . . . El . . .Eldariel."   
  
Both Elladan and his twin gasped softly, glancing at each other in shock. It couldn't be. She had been dead close to a thousand years now.  
  
Elrohir recovered first, "How old are you?"  
  
"I . . . I don't know." She stammered, shrinking from their touch.  
  
"Sîdh, tithen pen. I will not hurt you." Elladan whispered soothingly, slowly moving toward her, "My father is a healer."  
  
The sound of a twig snapping caused the four elves and the human to turn, weapons drawn. A tall, heavy set man stumbled drunkenly out onto the path. His greasy, flame colored hair was tousled and matted with bits of food. His bloodshot green eyes swept over those who stood in his path.  
  
"It's Ada!" Eldariel whimpered weakly. Pure terror swirled in her eyes.  
  
"How dare you bloody elves try to make off with my property!" the man slurred, staggering toward them.  
  
"Property?!" the twins growled, advancing on the rotund human. "She is an elf. She is no man's property."  
  
Eldariel stood, trembling from fear and cold. "They only wanted to help, master. They did not know."  
  
"Like hell, they didn't." he hissed, pulling her away from the others. "You are nothing, whore. No one, not even your own father, will ever want you. Stupid meddling elves. Thinking that you can just take what you want."  
  
Both Elladan and Elrohir jumped after the human as he yanked the she-elf off into the surrounding forest, only to be held back by Legolas and Aragorn.  
  
"Elladan, Elrohir, we can not help her right now." Legolas said softly, keeping a firm grip on the elder twin's arm. "We are ill equipped to attempt a rescue. Not to mention something tells me that there is a story behind this that involves Lord Elrond somehow."  
  
"Legolas is right, El." Aragorn said. 'Let's go home and tell Ada about her. Maybe he can help us."  
  
"No," the twins said simultaneously, looking at where the man had dragged the she-elf. "Not Ada. We'll discuss this with Glorfindel and Lindir."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Ada should not know until the Yule Festival." Elladan explained, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "It would be a wonderful gift to have the whole family there, with the exception of Amme of course."  
  
Aragorn and Legolas shook their heads, not understanding. What did they mean? The whole family would be assembled once they returned home.  
  
"Come on," Elrohir said heading for the horses, "we have much to do. And Estel, Legolas, if you two so much as breathe a word of this to Ada, you will be doing our hair and chores for the rest of the month."  
  
***  
  
Crack! The whip came down hard and cut across her already bloody shoulders.  
  
"What do you mean by speaking to elves, whore?" He said as the lash kissed her skin again. "You think you're better than me, your master? You have been with this family for centuries. We took you in when your own father disowned you. You have caused nothing but grief and trouble for everyone. Maybe I should sell you the Corsairs."  
  
"No, master, please. I'll try harder. I'll not speak to any one again unless you tell me to." She pleaded painfully as he hit her again. She would do anything, say anything to make him stop.   
  
She often wondered how she ended up like this. A slave to the House of Ladros. Long years had past but she could not forget the light and life that was before. The laughter and song before the darkness of slavery took her. The tall, dark haried elf who would toss her in the air as though she weighed no more than a dried leaf. Sometimes in the night she could still hear the soft lilt of his words as he told her bedtime stories.  
  
"A Elbereth Gilthoniel,  
  
silivren penne míriel . . ."  
  
The voice seemed to belong to a different time. A time when she felt loved and safe.   
  
Morion, like his fathers before him, was cruel. She was treated worse than all the other slaves in the house simply because she was an elf. Though her body healed quickly her heart and mind did not. Yet today there had been a glimmer of hope that her own kind could accept her. The three tall elves wanted to help her. One of them had said his father was a healer. In her experience, healers were kind, people she could trust. 'Twas the Yule Festival after all. Shouldn't one hope that the light would return and warm the earth. Maybe she should hope for her freedom as well. 


	2. The plan

"Are you sure?" Glorfindel asked, shaking his blond head in disbelief at the story he just heard. "Are you absolutely sure that it's Eldariel?"  
  
"We didn't want to believe it either, Glor. Yet there she was." Elladan said, watching the pacing elf closely.  
  
"I don't want to get your father's hopes up if she isn't, boys. His heart was broken when we found her dress covered in blood."  
  
"We know. We were there, remember." The twins half shouted.  
  
Lindir, who had been lazing on Glorfindel's bed looking at a scroll, stretched languidly and slid to a sitting position on the floor, pulling the comforter and half the sheets with him. "Describe her."  
  
"Lin, why do you do that?" the blond elf lord glowered at him, fastidiously righting the bed linens.  
  
"To annoy you, mellon-nîn." The dark-haired elf laughed. "Describe her."  
  
"It was obvious that she was an elf, for one thing." Legolas said, not truly understanding why the twins and Lord Glorfindel were so upset. "In fact, I would say she looked a lot like Arwen."  
  
The twins nodded their agreement. "We're going to help her, right? We're going to bring her home?"  
  
"It's not that easy, young ones." Glorfindel sighed. "She has been a captive since she was a child. She may well not remember her life before."  
  
"But it is a chance we must take, my lord." Legolas said with conviction. "Whether she is your sister or not, she must not be allowed to remain a slave."  
  
"Legolas is right. No elf should have to endure the cruelty of slavery." Aragorn agreed.  
  
***  
  
It was well past midnight and Elrond sat alone in his study. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth. On his lap, lay an open book, yet the elf lord was not paying attention to the pages. He was lost in thought. His mind taking him back a thousand years to a time when this was a season of joy for him. He loved the Yule festival, but it always brought with it the painful memories of losing his youngest child. She had been so young. A light and lively creature, nothing like Celebrian or Arwen. She had been day to their night. So young. She had been out playing in the snow with her brothers and sister when they had been attacked. Only the twins and Arwen had made it back to the house.  
  
"Ada?" a voice called from the doorway.  
  
Elrond looked up to see Arwen standing there. Hastily he brushed away the tears that were threatening to fall and motioned for her to join him.  
  
"You have not slept much these last few days." she said quietly as she curled up at his feet, resting her chin on his knee.  
  
"No, iel, I have not. 'Tis memories that haunt my thoughts of late."  
  
"Eldariel?"  
  
"Aye, hên. And sleep does not come." The elf lord sighed. "A thousand years have passed and still the pain of her loss is as intense as it was the day we found her bloodstained clothing."  
  
"I wish I could take that pain from you, Ada." Arwen took one of her father's hands in her own, stroking it lightly. She loved the roughness of her father's hands, the hands of a healer and a warrior. It was the warrior who sat here berating himself for not being able to protect the youngest member of his family.   
  
"What could I have done differently, Arwen? How could I have made sure that all of you came back safely?"  
  
He had ridden the borders for three days in hope that he would find her. It was on the morning of the third day that he, the twins, Lindir and Glorfindel had found her little dress and cloak shredded and covered in blood. Beside it lay her favorite doll. The snow, too, was saturated with blood. He had collapsed right there, his grief so great that Glorfindel had to ride with him just to keep him ahorse.  
  
"There was nothing you could have done, Ada." She answered reassuringly, "We have always thought our borders safe. That day was no different. How those men got through our patrols, we'll never know. But nothing you did or didn't do would change what happened."  
  
"She was so young, Arwen. She was still a child. Barely out of your mother's arms."  
  
Arwen smiled. "Go to bed, Ada." She admonished gently, "Brooding about it won't bring her back."  
  
Elrond sighed resignedly, "You are right, my Arwen. I should be thankful that I still have you and your brothers."  
  
"Good night, Ada," she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek as she rose from her seat on the floor.  
  
"Goodnight, iel.  
  
***  
  
Morion paced the length of the great hall. He was growing tired of the firstborn's clumsiness. He also hated how she never cried or pleaded with him when she was beaten. It infuriated him the way she just stared off into oblivion when she was given a lashing.  
  
"Are you serious about selling her, m' lord?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"There is a man in town, asking around about house slaves." The servant said hesitantly. "He's offering four large rubies and four sacks of gold to anyone who can supply him with a she-elf."  
  
Morion tapped his lip thoughtfully. It was a tempting offer, yet should he really part with a family heirloom. However the amount of slaves he could purchase with the promised sum was staggering.  
  
"Bring me the elf!" he commanded another servant.  
  
"You will sell, my lord?"  
  
"As long as this man is feeling generous, why should I not take advantage of it. Besides, she's not worth a quarter of what he's offering."  
  
Eldariel scuttled silently into the chamber, hoping to avoid her master's eye. She wondered why she had been sent for, but really didn't want to find out. Morion could be excessively cruel when he wanted to be and she wanted to be as far away as possible if he was like that today.  
  
"Ah," he exclaimed, grinning ferally as his eyes lit upon her like a hunting hawk on a mouse. "Lómion, take her into Carnemírië and bring me the promised price. If you can get the fool to pay you more than he is offering, so much the better. If she gives you any trouble feel free to discipline her harshly."  
  
"Very good, m' lord." The servant answered, leering at the helpless she-elf as he bowed before his master.  
  
"Oh, and Lómion, you will be handsomely rewarded upon your return."  
  
"Thank you, m' lord."  
  
Author's Note: Sorry that it has taken so long to update this story, but life happens. Also too many ideas and not enough time to write it all down. Any way, I'm hoping to have the last chapter up before Christmas but 'tis the season for going crazy. Have a Happy Holiday and fulfill my Christmas wish by reviewing. LOL! 


	3. Joy

"Estel, what on earth are we doing here?" Legolas hissed as they stepped into the dimly lit tavern. He wrinkled his nose at the stench of unwashed bodies, vomit, and stale beer. It reminded him of a dwarf feast he once had the displeasure of attending.  
  
"I'm meeting someone here today."  
  
"And?" the twins asked expectantly as they followed their little brother.  
  
"I had asked around about the possibilities of acquiring a dark-haired she-elf." Aragorn grinned lopsidedly at their impatience. This was going to be fun. Finally, some retribution for all the practical jokes over the years.  
  
"And?" the three elves chorused.  
  
"I said I would pay whatever it takes to get her." He pulled back the hood of his cloak.  
  
"Valar, Estel!" Elrohir choked in disbelief, "You look -"   
  
"Clean!" Elladan gasped, his gray eyes wide with amazement. "So that's the real color of your hair! I've always wondered."  
  
"And in your festival best, too, I see." The blond elf prince smirked, holding open the ranger's cloak.  
  
"I'm so glad you three smart asses think this is funny," he grinned smugly, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he crossed his arms across his chest and glared good-naturedly at them. "Because, guess what, you three get to be my slaves."  
  
"What?!" the elves' eyebrows flew incredulously into their hairlines.  
  
"You have to, for this deception to work. Now put these on." From the folds of his cloak he produced three gilded collars.  
  
All three stepped away from him in horror.  
  
"We are Firstborns, Estel. We are servants to no Edain!" Legolas spat indignantly.  
  
"Calm down. Do you want to free Eldariel or not."  
  
"Yes." The twins ground out through clenched teeth, glowering at their human brother as they snatched the collars from him.  
  
Aragorn suppressed the urge to laugh outright at the disgruntled looks on their faces. He knew he would pay dearly for this, but right now it was worth it.  
  
***  
  
Eldariel huddled in the corner away from Lómion, pressing a dirty cloth to her right ear. The steward was as bad as his master when it came to meting out punishments for nothing. This time he had cut the tip off her ear for daring to look around.  
  
Lómion watched the man approach. He was followed by not one, but three elves. This man had to be rich indeed to afford three of the Firstborn. They were said to be hard to capture on a good day and next to impossible on a bad one, which accounted for their high price.   
  
"Master Lómion?" asked the stranger.  
  
"M' lord Thorongil." The steward inclined his head in greeting.  
  
"Have you had any luck?"  
  
"Aye. Have you the promised price?"  
  
The stranger nodded and tossed five bags onto the table. "Where is she?"  
  
"I was told seven bags of gold, m' lord."  
  
The man raised an eyebrow, "Your master was told four of gold and four large rubies. Are you planning on cheating him?"  
  
Lómion merely looked obliquely at the man. "I know nothing of that, m' lord. I only collect what I am told to. Now, I would fork over the other three bags if you don't want this precious commodity going to another gentleman. You plan on breeding her to one of yours?"  
  
"That is my business." Thorongil answered contemptuously. "Where is she?"  
  
"Not until I see the money."  
  
Suddenly, Lómion found himself hauled out of his seat and the point of a dagger pressed to his throat.   
  
"I want to make sure she's worth the hike in price, scum. How do I know you aren't trying to cheat me?"  
  
"There." the steward croaked, nodding toward the corner. "I'd watch her if I were you. Firstborns are nothing but trouble."  
  
Thorongil grinned, glancing back at the elves he brought with him as he tossed the steward to the floor. "I'm well versed in the trouble they can cause, Master Lómion. But I thank you for the warning." He threw down four more bags at the man's feet, their contents spilling out and clinking against the worn planks of the floor. "Now, I suggest you get thee gone before I change my mind about being so generous with your sorry life."  
  
With that, the steward gathered up the sacks, scuttled out of the tavern and back to his master.  
  
"Sîdh, tithen pen." Thorongil whispered in elvish, cautiously moving toward the huddled figure. "I will not hurt you."  
  
A soft whimper was his only answer.  
  
"Come, you are free." He reached out slowly and unlatched the iron collar. "We've come to take you home."  
  
"You are my master now?" came the tentative question.  
  
"No." He smiled, cupping her chin in his hand. "You are a Firstborn. You are not a slave."  
  
When he caught sight of the bloody rag, his anger threatened to boil over. Gently he pulled it away from her mutilated ear, gasping softly at the sight. What else had been done to her? He wondered silently, quickly scanning her for other more serious injuries.  
  
"Elladan," he called softly to his eldest brother, "she's hurt bad. We need to get her back to the house and cleaned up."  
  
Without another word, the elder twin swept over to her and effortlessly scooped her up in his strong arms.  
  
"You are safe now, tithen thêl. Ada has waited long to have you back in his arms." The elf said in a choked whisper. "This will definitely be a Yule to remember."  
  
"You are not his slaves?"  
  
"No." Elrohir chuckled evilly, glancing slyly at Aragorn, "He's our little brother, and he's going to be paying dearly for a while for the indignity of appearing in public as such."  
  
"I know. I know. I'll see both of you bright and early tomorrow morning for a massage, festival braiding and various assundry of horrid odd jobs that you two will cook up overnight."  
  
The little she-elf smiled softly, more than slightly confused by this turn of fate, and rested her head against the dark-haired elf's shoulder. Within minutes she was fast asleep.  
  
***  
  
Elrond stood in front of the floor to ceiling bay window in his bed chamber, staring out into the crystal winter night.  
  
"Why did you take her from me, Ilúvatar? Why do you punish me for cherishing her so?" he asked the night. "'Tis been a thousand years and the sorrow and grief have not abated."  
  
Turning from the window, he sighed heavily as he stripped out of his deep burgundy velvet robe and slipped on a pair of buttery soft tawny buck skin leggings. The soft firelight danced over his pale golden skin, playing over the battle hardened muscles of his arms and chest. His waist length raven dark hair fell loose over his powerful shoulders. His stormy gray eyes brimmed with tears that he stubbornly refused to shed. He would not let his overwhelming grief shadow the Yule Festival for the others.  
  
Laying down on his bed, he heaved a shaky sigh. He missed Celebrian most during Yule. She was the only one who had ever been able to soothe his tortured soul, for she too grieved Eldariel's loss.  
  
He remembered how completely surprised he had been when Celebrian told him that she was with child again after so many long years. Eldariel had been born almost seventeen hundred years after Arwen. And from the minute of her birth, Eldariel had been his constant companion. The day she disappeared, he had been called to a birth and he had not been able to go play in the snow with them. He should not have let them go out alone.  
  
"Oh, Cel, what a fool you have for a mate." He whispered to the dying fire. "What would you think of me now? Though I love all of my children with all of my heart, I can not seem to pull my heart out of Eldariel's grave."  
  
Absently he ran his hand over the pillow where his wife's head would have lain if she had still been in Middle Earth. He closed his eyes against the terrible ache in his heart. He need her more than ever tonight. He had never felt so utterly alone. Silent tears escaped his eyes despite his efforts to keep them at bay. Finally, he gave himself up to his heartache. His body shook with the force of his silent sobs. However, it wasn't long before his exhausted mind dragged him down into a restless sleep.  
  
***  
  
"Arwen!" came a soft voice outside her door, breaking through her dreams. "Arwen, are you awake?"  
  
Quickly she roused herself and wrapped a thick robe around her.  
  
"Of course I'm not awake, you moron." She ground out through clenched teeth as she padded to the door.  
  
"Arwen, come on, open up!" another voice whispered insistently.  
  
"What, by all that is holy, do you four rogues want at this hour of the night?" She growled as she pulled open the door. "I hope this isn't one of your stupid practical jokes."  
  
Her jaw dropped at the sight before her. Elladan cradled a bloodied young woman protectively against his breast. The look of triumph and weariness spoke volumes. He was anchoring her to this world.   
  
"Help us get her cleaned up, Arwen." He said, pushing past her. "She's Ada's Yule present."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's Eldariel." Elrohir explained as he threw open Arwen's wardrobe and began rummaging through her dresses. "We found her a week ago."  
  
Legolas coughed and threw the younger twin an incensed glare.  
  
"OK, Legolas found her on his way here."  
  
"May I ask what's going on?" came a silky voice from the door. Glorfindel leaned  
  
languidly against the door jam, a smug smirk playing over his slender lips.  
  
"Ai!" Aragorn yelped softly as he pulled the elf lord into the room and glanced about the hallway. "'Ro, you were suppose to shut the door!"  
  
"Sorry, Estel." Elrohir grinned as he held up one of Arwen's gossamer under things to his shoulders. "So what do you think? Is it me?"  
  
Everyone but Arwen burst out laughing.  
  
"Really! Elrohir, you're impossible!"  
  
"If I'm so impossible, then why do I exist?"  
  
"To put the rest of us through hell so we don't have to go there for real." Aragorn smarted back as he grabbed the under shift. "Glor, we have her. Elladan is trying to clean her up as much as he can."  
  
The blond elf lord's eyes went wide and he strode into the bathing chamber. "Show me!" they heard him demand.  
  
Legolas pushed Elrohir away from the wardrobe. "You know, my father would be horrified if he found out I was going through a lady's drawers right now." He smirked with an impish twinkle in his blue eyes.  
  
"Think of what Ada would say if he found you in there, Legolas."  
  
"Somehow I doubt he would ground me for a century just for looking. Do you really wear all this stuff underneath?"  
  
"With all the tales we've heard about your exploits with Mirkwood she-elves, I'm surprised you even ask that."  
  
Legolas looked her straight in the eye, smiling calmly, "Tales cooked up by my former valet after he was dismissed for stealing. I'm a virgin and I intend on staying that way."  
  
"You're weirder than I first thought." Elrohir muttered, smacking the prince upside the head. "Don't you like girls?"  
  
"Yes. I just don't want one telling me what to do all the time, that's all." He answered slapping the younger twin's hands away from the wardrobe.  
  
"Have you found something suitable to dress her in?" Glorfindel said rolling his eyes at the conversation.  
  
"Um."  
  
"That's what I was afraid of." The blond elf lord shook his head in exasperation as he pulled a simple earth toned kirtle out of cupboard. "Your father will have clothing made for her later, but this will do for now."  
  
"Were we right?" Elrohir asked anxiously.  
  
Glorfindel nodded, his eyes glittering with tears. "Yes, little one." His voice barely above a whisper. "Now Elrond can stop grieving."  
  
***  
  
Elrond woke to muffled whispers outside his door. It was barely dawn and all five young ones were no doubt sitting on the top step whispering as loud as they could in an effort to wake him. It had always been this way. Though he really didn't want to get up.  
  
"Shut up, Elladan!" he heard Estel hiss. "You know it's too early to wake Ada!"  
  
"Why don't you go back to bed then, sissy."  
  
"Jeez, you'd think after the massage you'd be in a better mood."  
  
"I'm still mad about having to pose as your slave."  
  
"But it was for a good cause, El."  
  
"You are still going to be paying for the humiliation, twit."  
  
Elrond's eyebrows knitted in confusion. What in Varda were they talking about? He decided he had better get up and find out. He shrugged on a soft high collared long tunic of emerald silk and opened the door, peering out into the dimly lit hall.  
  
"What's going on? A body can't get any sleep with you five jockeying to see who can whisper the loudest at my keyhole."  
  
Aragorn, Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas, grinned sheepishly while Arwen stood with her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes at them.  
  
"Nice try, young lady. But I distinctly remember hearing your voice." Elrond chuckled.  
  
"I see you're finally awake, my lord." Glorfindel snickered as he strolled down the hall.  
  
"Who can sleep with the din these monsters make? You'd think they were toddlers instead of adults."  
  
"I've often wondered about that myself."  
  
"Come on, Ada!" the twins squeaked, unable to contain their excitement any longer. "Come on!"  
  
His children surrounded him and dragged him down the stairs toward the Hall of Fire. He had never seen them so eager to open their gifts before, even when they were younger. A warning bell went off in his head.  
  
"Hold on!" he said, pulling out of their grasp. "What are you five up to?"  
  
Glorfindel caught his lord's eye and smiled. "Trust me, Elrond. You want to go in there."  
  
What did his seneschal know?  
  
"Go on Ada. You go first." Elladan said nodding toward the door.  
  
Were there tears in his son's eyes? What was going on? Cautiously, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. He gasped at the sight that met his eyes.  
  
Curled up on the hearth was a small dark-haired girl, her eyes closed in exhausted slumber. Though her face had fading bruises on it, it was still youthful and beautiful. Even curled so tightly, she had the boneless grace that spoke of elven blood.   
  
He just stood there watching her, unable to move, breathe, or think. This had to be a dream. Who was this child in his home? Then the realization hit him.  
  
"No." he breathed in disbelief. "It can not be!"  
  
The child stirred and opened frightened sliver gray eyes. Terrified she scrambled away from the elf lord.  
  
"Sîdh, hên-nîn. I will not hurt you." He croaked, kneeling on the floor in front of her. "Do you not remember me, Arien-nîn?"  
  
She stared at him blankly at first, then confusion lit her features. "No. . . no. . . no one knows that name. Who are you?"  
  
Elrond held his hands out to her. Hesitantly, she laid her own in them. He watched her eyes study his face intently. It seemed eternity before she spoke again.  
  
"A . . . Ada?" Tears streamed down her fair cheeks as she dropped her gaze to his hands. Her small, slender fingers slid over his callused palms, stopping when she came across his ring. "Vilya. Ada?"  
  
"Yes." He whispered as he gathered her small form into his arms, his face wet with tears of joy. "Welcome home, my daughter."  
  
"Happy Yule, Ada!" He heard the twins call behind him.  
  
"Yes. It is that." He answered, cradling Eldariel to his breast and rocking her like he use to when she was a small child. He felt her sag against him. "You are home now, my sunshine. You are safe. No more harm will ever come to you. I promise."  
  
"Sing, Ada." She whispered.  
  
"A Elbereth Gilthoniel, silivren penne míriel . . ." Elrond's voice, though soft, filled the chamber with sound. His face shone with the light of unmatched joy as he stroked his lost daughter's hair. His heart had been returned to him.   
  
With time, all her hurts would be healed, but for now it was enough to know that all the things that her masters had told her over the centuries were lies. Her father did want her. In fact, he had been grieving her loss for a very long time.  
  
"I'm home, Ada." Eldariel murmured quietly, snuggling closer to her father's warmth and laying her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I was gone so long."  
  
Elrond hugged her closer, unwilling to let her go for fear this was all a dream. "Hannon le, híni-nîn. You have given me so much."  
  
Arwen, the twins, and Aragorn all knelt around Elrond, who gathered them all in his arms.  
  
"Come, Legolas." He said to the prince who seemed to retreat into the shadows. "Come little one. You are mine, too."  
  
The blond elf smiled and joined the joyful embrace.   
  
Author's Note: Merry Christmas to all of you in Tolkien Fandom. Have a Happy Holiday and fulfill my Christmas wish by reviewing. Read my other stories while you are at it. Still haven't seen ROTK yet, (frustrated sigh) Oh well, maybe after the holiday. LOL! ; ) ; ) 


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